


In the End (It Doesn't Really Matter)

by paintedwolf



Category: Haven (TV)
Genre: AU, Gen, Implied Character Death, Nathan's Guard tattoo and the implications thereof, Or not, it's open-ended enough that it could go either way really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 10:13:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17343434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintedwolf/pseuds/paintedwolf
Summary: "His first instinct was to pull his hand away, to hide the evidence, to pretend this wasn’t really happening. He knew what this meant—they’d both known for too long now. "





	In the End (It Doesn't Really Matter)

**Author's Note:**

> So I found this lying around in a notebook and decided to type it up. As is often the case with me, this was probably part of a bigger story, but since I can't remember exactly what that story was, it'll just have to stand as is. It's...kinda depressing given the subject matter, but there is an opening for a happy, fluffy ending if that's what you want it to be. :)

His hand swept over the top of Duke’s head, thumb tracing small arcs through his thick hair. He couldn’t feel it, but his hands and fingers knew where to be and how to move, the motions still imprinted into muscles from a time when comforting each other had been easy and natural as breathing.

Duke’s eyes slid over to his, the deep brown almost black in the gloom. He moved his hand to rest against Nathan’s, the one that was on Duke’s chest because some misguided part of him still hoped he might feel a heartbeat there.

“It was you all along,” he whispered. Nathan frowned. 

“Your tattoo,” Duke clarified.

Nathan looked down to where the ink was still etched into the skin of his arm. His breath caught in his throat; a tiny, audible, little choke of air as he remembered the day he got it, when he’d told Duke  _ why  _ he’d got it. 

His first instinct was to pull his hand away, to hide the evidence, to pretend this wasn’t really happening. He knew what this meant — they’d  _ both  _ known for too long now. 

He wanted to deny it as much as he wanted to deny he’d ever thought that killing Duke could’ve been an option. 

Maybe they were wrong. Even if it looked bad, maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe —

The world distorted around him, reality crashing in around the edges. 

“It’s okay.” Duke’s voice — quiet, gentle, understanding — grounded him again. 

He looked back into Duke’s eyes and calm rushed over him. There was warmth there. Acceptance.

It took a few tries for Nathan to speak. “No it’s not.”

Duke smiled, started to cough. Nathan moved his hand to Duke’s cheek, turning his head back toward him. He didn’t know why it was so important to see his eyes.

“Stay with me,” he said, both hands now cradling Duke’s face.

Duke let out a small whine, “But it hurts, Nate.” 

God, he sounded like he did when he was a kid. It made Nathan want to weep.

He gathered Duke up in his arms, pressed him against his chest. 

“I know. I know it does,” he said.

He started rocking back and forth, gently, without really thinking, with a hand on the side of Duke’s face and his head against Duke’s hair. 

This close, he could smell his shampoo — something herbal and fresh. 

He could hear him too; the sound of Duke’s breathing, and it made Nathan want to press his head against his chest so he could hear his heartbeat, as if he could fill his senses with all the signs that Duke was alive and forget that he could ever be anything but.

He didn’t feel it when the tears slid down his cheeks, didn’t reach up a hand to wipe them away even when his vision blurred so badly he couldn’t see.

He just blinked them away. Held on.

Waited.

 


End file.
